


Per Aspera Ad Astra

by SavingShepard



Series: Read Between the Lines [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established couple, M/M, Near Death Experiences, POV Spock, Romance, Self-Doubt, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Star Trek Beyond, Star Trek Beyond Spoilers, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, potentially
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-29
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-05-30 03:23:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SavingShepard/pseuds/SavingShepard
Summary: Spock is aware that all missions come to an end. That is the way of things, after all.He didn't plan for Jim wanting to quit this one halfway through - and fights to keep him where he belongs: with him, on the Enterprise.





	1. I don't wanna be here anymore

**Author's Note:**

> FYI. Even though this fic is the second part of a series, it can be read on its own.

 

 “Spock, I _really_ need to talk to you about something.” 

Spock turned as the doors to their quarters opened to find an exhausted-looking Jim, feeling a twinge of anxiousness at Jim’s tone. The last person to utter those words with such gravity was Nyota, as she was terminating their relationship. He attempted to ignore the curl of fear in his stomach and answered, “Of course, Jim.” He softly placed his pad on their desk and moved forward to meet him, not liking the state he found his partner in. He fought the urge to fret, knowing Doctor McCoy had already given him a once over- and the fact that Khan’s blood had already begun the reparatory process.

Jim’s shirt was so ripped it was more holes than fabric, and his dirty-blonde hair still stuck up and was matted with blood from his mission. He was pale and looked both dejected and frustrated, his arms limp but his hands balled at his side. Spock moved towards him and raised opened his arms, finally able to offer a hug now that they were in private.

Jim gladly took him up on the offer, sinking into his chest, gradually un-tensing as Spock encircled his arms around him and pulled him close. Spock’s stomach unwound at this, the fear that Jim would suddenly terminate their relationship dissipating the longer Jim remained in his embrace. Spock let him unwind in silence, his arm rubbing circles into Jim’s back, a motion he had discovered calmed Jim very quickly. After Jim’s death, he was loathe to have Vulcan customs and ways impede on the comfort he could offer Jim, especially when Jim so obviously appreciated these gestures – not to mention he enjoyed them as well.

Jim suddenly stiffened. “Wait- Let me get changed. I’ll get all this grime all over you otherwise.” His dismayed tone betrayed his self-critical thoughts, and Spock pulled him closer, believing to know the cause. “Jim, you are not to blame for how the mission today concluded. There was no way to predict their reactions from our limited contact with them.”

Jim angled out of the embrace just slightly to run his hand through his hair, before removing it and looking at it in disgust after it had snagged on the multiple knots and a mixture of dried blood and dirt. “I _know_ that. I do, I guess…that’s not the problem. It’s just...” He paused and looked down at his shirt. “I don’t enjoy this anymore. That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

Spock’s stomach turned to ice as he tried to understand Jim’s meaning. “Enjoy what, exactly?

Jim shrugged and looked ashamed, pulling at what was left of the hem of his command shirt. “Let me – let me shower and get my thoughts straight. I’ll explain.”

Spock nodded curtly and took a step back, his mind buzzing at the implications of Jim’s statement. He deeply and guiltily hoped that Jim meant he no longer enjoyed diplomatic missions and that this had nothing to do with him.   He suppressed the urge to pace around the room while he waited, and instead opted to sit down on their sofa. He lit a few of his meditation candles and incense, ignoring the voice in his brain that told him he was fidgeting and that this was illogical, and instead reasoned that this could instil calm in both him and Jim.

Jim stepped out of their bathroom as Spock was lighting the last candle on the table, changed in his pyjamas and looking far better than he had five minutes before. His cuts were now faint pink lines, thanks to Khan’s regenerative blood, and he was the healthy pink that Spock _loved_ to see. Jim’s mouth twisted up in a sheepish smile as he saw the candles and incense.

“I’m sorry Spock, I know it’s late and I’m intruding into your meditation time, but-”

“Jim, please cease apologising. There is no need.” He fought the impatient part of him that wanted to know what Jim had wanted to tell him _now_ and sought to come off as calming and supportive. “Let us… discuss what you wished to tell me.”

Jim visibly gulped. “Right.” He moved to sit right beside Spock, who looked at him expectantly.

“Spock, I..” Jim picked at a newly formed scab, unwilling to meet Spock’s eyes just yet. “I don’t enjoy what I do anymore.”

“What do you mean?” Spock relaxed at those words. Jim was not talking about them, it seemed.

“I don’t enjoy being a Captain anymore. I don’t… enjoy this mission or the diplomacy, or -” He sighed deeply. “The only thing keeping me going right now is you, Bones, and the crew. Otherwise.. I just don’t feel that _spark_ I used to have, you know? I feel… lost and – and that maybe, being Captain isn’t cut out for me. It was fun while it lasted but… I think being an Admiral would be a better fit.”

“I … see.” Spock’s mind tried to fit itself around the implications of this, what this meant for him, their relationship, and the crew overall. He was not surprised, however. He had noted Jim’s listlessness, the almost constant frustration he felt at their missions and what was expected of them by Starfleet Command.

“So-” There was a nervous edge to Jim’s voice. “I-I'm not sure yet at all but I wanted to let you know. I felt you should, really. And - I was worried about you. The crew can manage themselves, and I have some ideas for who would replace me, but I didn’t know where you would want to be. I didn’t want to expect for you to follow me and of course, I completely understand if you want to stay-”

“Jim.” Spock cut through his rambling and proffered his index and middle fingers. “Whichever route you choose, I will be there to support and be with you.”

Jim looked at his hand in both surprise and elation. “Oh! Oh, thank god.” He returned the Vulcan kiss and went in for a human kiss at the same time. Spock felt the undercurrent of shock, gratitude and _love_ flowing through Jim before Jim pulled away from their kiss, looking very relieved. “I didn’t want to lose you.”

Spock tamped down the irritation and sadness he felt in moments such as these, where Jim doubted the strength of their relationship, how much Spock wished to be with him. How could Jim still, after three years, doubt that he wanted to stay, for as long as time permitted them to be together? Did the faint soulmate line on his wrist not tell him what he needed to know? Or perhaps it was on his own actions – he was not affectionate enough to show just how much he cared, or the limits he would go to stay with him. Perhaps Jim did not know the depth of the effect losing him again would have?

He mentally cursed the family that had meant Jim would feel that he would be so easily abandoned, that the crew would so easily let him go without a fight - that Spock would be unwilling to sacrifice some of his own aspirations for him. 

He resolved to find a more permanent way of showing Jim this.

“You will never ‘lose’ me, _ashayam_.”


	2. Chapter 2

By the time they had arrived in Yorktown, Spock was still at a loss as to what to do to help Jim. He had stayed awake for the remainder of the night but all his answers, though logical, never seemed adequate for the emotional quagmire that Jim was in.

In some ways, he had seen this coming. Jim had lost the spark he had had at the beginning of the mission. The enthusiasm was gone, to say the least. Jim no longer jumped out of bed excitedly in the morning.  Despite noticing this change, Spock had not, however, realised how deeply this ran within his partner.

It was apparent that Jim was lost, untethered and at sea. Spock had no idea how to help him reel himself back in. He knew they would need to talk about this more when there was time. He would have to find a way to say what he was thinking, too. The idea of Jim thinking Spock would willingly leave because Jim suddenly chose a different career path – _stung_.

Spock stopped to the side of the exit, unsure what to do next. He watched as the crew milled and spread out from the exit, excitedly pointing at the simulated atmosphere and the pulsing life below their current vantage point above them all.  His eyes followed Jim as he jetted off towards the Starfleet Bureau, his gold shirt disappearing into the distance. He seemed to have made his mind up after their conversation. Spock found himself hating this option. It was unlikely that Jim’s application for Admiral would be processed immediately, and it was even more likely that Jim would be forced to finish the last two years of their mission. Spock greatly…disliked the idea of Jim, at worst, hating his job, at best feeling neutral about the last two years of his mission – a mission he had previously been so driven and excited about.

He detested the idea of Jim as an Admiral more. He estimated that Jim would chafe under the bureaucracy and that static of Yorktown after a year, if not sooner. The role was so static that Jim would chafe under the bureaucracy and the lack of freedom and flexibility. No, the Captain’s chair was where Jim belonged.  On the Enterprise, with the crew. _With him_.

 He did not deny that this was a selfish thought.

He knew actively telling Jim that this wasn’t the way had that potential to have the opposite effect, as Jim liked to prove him wrong. Spock often said these things the ‘wrong’ way and had learned from experience what effect they would have, though he was not entirely sure how he was ‘wrong’. He also knew that reverse psychology would have no impact and was averse to being manipulative.  He needed to have another option. One that wasn’t just based on logic – as Jim was working with emotions and had already probably thought of it. He knew he would do something that touched on both.

Realising he was alone on the arrival deck, he decided to think about this further over some tea, instead of by staring at the space left by Jim. After asking a terminal whether there were any Vulcan-run stores nearby, he was unsurprised to find that Vulcans had made a niche for themselves in this multi-species hub. Vulcans had gradually moved to the far reaches of different galaxies. Many had settled on planets with similar customs and values – with very little touching and emotion, of course. Others opted to go further, to try and find a colony of their own and making a living in the meantime. The latter were the ones found in many space stations, selling their skills and knowledge and building relations with those around them. He wondered if they would feel closer to him now, given the similarities in their lives, or further apart. It was not uncommon for those after an unprecedented disaster to do their utmost to keep their roots pure. Spock certainly fell out of that category. His father, thankfully, had not pushed the idea of continuing the family line after T’Pring. Perhaps he knew it would be very unlikely for anyone to accept Spock as a match, despite their family ties. Or perhaps he respected Spock’s relationship with Jim, which he did not appear to disapprove of, to Spock’s utter surprise when he told him in a voice call. His father had even wished them well. Spock did not know, nor did he wish to ask.

As he walked into the tea shop, he was surprised to see a familiar face greeting him: his older counterpart. The way his eyes crinkled was telling – Spock was welcome here. His counterpart stepped out of his booth and motioned for him to sit with him. “Spock, I was just wondering whether you would visit the Vulcan Quarter.”

“Ambassador.” Spock nodded at him. It was odd to see him; he could be far more open with him than any other Vulcan, simply because this Vulcan _was_ him. He knew, in some way or form, the way in which he wanted to do or say things, without further explanation. He also knew he did not need to tell him how reassuring this was. But he could not be as open here, and neither inquired as to his health nor his work as he sat down opposite him.

The  Vulcan owner silently brought over a menu padd of options and bowed at both of them. Spock admired his traditional robes, a translucent silver filigree with geometric designs overlaying a simple dark grey surcoat, filing away the thought of getting himself some while on the base.

“There is something on your mind.” The older Vulcan commented once the owner was out of hearing distance; a statement and not a question. Spock barely glanced at the menu, already knowing what he wanted.   _Perhaps._ Spock considered whether to tell him his concerns. After all, this man had lived with a version of Jim for far longer than Spock had. _Perhaps his Jim had been an Admiral_. Instead, he looked at his counterpart’s hands. They were cupped around a piping hot bowl of tea, half covered by the thick hem of his robe. His fingers were thin, wrinkled, a lifetime written in the crevasses. It was _odd_ to know how he would look in multiple decades’ time. It was odd that Jim knew, too. He wondered briefly how Jim would look, and quickly dismissed the thought, a pang running through him as he wondered whether Jim assumed they would not grow old together.

 “Jim no longer wishes to be Captain.” He paused, selecting the particular blend of tea he could only find in Vulcan communes. A tea his mother had made at home. It held memories and scents of citrus and ginger. “He was afraid that if he chose to become an Admiral, I would not stay with him. That I would prefer to stay on the Enterprise, or some other ship, without him.”

“This concerns you?” his counterpart did not seem surprised by this news, nor did he seem troubled. In some ways, this was reassuring. In others, it was not. Perhaps his counterpart’s Jim had become an Admiral, perhaps he had even become one.

“Yes.” _, Of course,_ , Spock thought, slightly irritated because of how obvious the answer was. “For multiple reasons. The first of which that he believes I will so easily leave him, despite multiple reassurances and the years and experiences we have shared together. The second being that he is uncomfortable in his current role, but I do not believe that admiralty is the correct step for him.” He looked away when he realised how heated he was becoming. This had affected him far more than he had anticipated.

“I realise that I am…” He disliked divulging his weaknesses, and this was only made easier by this Spock having had similar weaknesses in the past. “at a loss of what step to take next.”

“Have you spoken to him about these thoughts?”

“I hoped to clarify them and my steps before talking to him.”

“I see.” The ambassador sipped his tea, hot translucent steam obscuring his face for a moment. “Jim had also considered admiralty, although much later. He too had been uncertain about his role as Captain. He was unsure about himself, his skills, and why he had become Captain. In this respect, your Captain is very much different from mine.”

Spock read between the lines.  Jim’s background would mean he had different insecurities, different thoughts. Jim had become Captain through a combination of luck, drive and impressive leadership skills. Jim had become interested due to his father being Captain and wanted to live up and succeed past this role model. Having succeeded... what else was there for him to do? What other challenges to overcome?

He irrationally felt the need to slap his forehead like Jim did when he found an obvious solution to an issue. _Of course_.

What was left to do would be to find ways to challenge him – something Spock already took pride …and maybe a little enjoyment… in doing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay y'all, the reality of finals kicked in


End file.
